The New Yorker has amazing feature stories. Most of the time they are long winded. Last week they profiled Karl Lagerfeld, one of the last remnants of fashion's aristocracy.
So for your pleasure, we present some highlights of the article, "Where Karl Lagerfeld lives" by John Colapinto:
- he has 22 assistants
- "he had to cancel a trip to Brazil when the government concluded that the cost of providing for Lagerfeld's security would be too great"
- "He hates the telephone, and communicates with the outside world primarily through faxes, which he writes in flowing script with a fountain pen. 'I have a direct line, but I don't even remember the number,' he says. 'I have cell phones, but I don't use them. Personally, it is nearly impossible to reach me.'
- "He has said that he decided never to smoke cigarettes after his mother told him that his hands were exceptionally ugly and that smoking would only draw attention to them; she also told him that his stories were 'so boring' that he should hurry up and tell them—he says this accounts for his rapid speech."
Ah...read the piece...it's well worth your time!